A derisive sort of laugh let him. âResponsibilities? No. Youâre talking to someone whoâs life revolves around dealing. The word responsible doesnât belong next to me. Itâs more like an obligation. I donât want to get fucked over, so I donât fuck around.â he shrugged. It made sense to him. He could spend his days out of it, but where was the logic in it. It was fun sure, but that was maybe two out of ten times. The rest you didnât necessarily remember. He let out a little laugh, it was short and not filled with much emotion, but it was still a laugh. âYou donât strike me as the sort to be professional, ever.â he joked. His dark eyes looking back up at her, he took in the features of her face. A slight curiosity sinking back in once again, it always seemed to creep up around her. âSo since, youâve delved into this area of trying to beâŚâ he was going to say friend, but he wasnât sure if that was even what she was really doing. ââŚwell friendly, can i ask you a question?â He didnât wait for an answer, instead just leant his head back once more as he voiced it. âWhy do you do this stuff? Not just the ones from tonight. I mean, everything.â he ventured. âI mean, what drove you to it? You seem like someone who couldâŚ..make something of yourself.â
His words made a little sense. Then again, she wasnât in a position to really comment on how he chose to live his life. He had his methods it was clear. Maybe that was what he needed to do. Everyone had methods. Her eyes glistened with something resembling actual glee for a brief moment. âNo, I suppose I donât strike that idea with anyone really.â she agreed. âDownside of being so....well I donât know how to describe what exactly I am.â she shrugged. Rogue wanted to look away from the gaze he was now landing her with. There was something in it that, didnât scare her, but made her feel like maybe she was venturing down a bad road. This vague idea of getting to know him, it was a whim, like most of her curiosity driven excursions. But she couldnât. Instead she found herself watching the way his eyes moved along her face. Swallowing at the question he had set before her. How did she answer that. Be honest? Lie like she normally did? She shuffled, a little awkwardly, trying to get comfortable. The rising sensation of being uncomfortable with the question was sinking in. âI wasnât born to be something.â she finally spoke. âI was born a something.â she shrugged. There was no emotion in her words, she didnât care for feeling anything on this matter any more. Sheâd given up that on the inside a long time ago. âI do them for a lot of reasons. To sleep, to stay awake, to stay sane, to shut them out, the let them in.â she rambled. âMy headâs sort of a fucked up place to be. I only stay alive because of how I medicate myself.â she admitted. âI drown the truth in whatever I can get my hands on. Because feeling nothing is better for me then feeling anything. Especially with my head.â









